


Spoils

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: For: Spoils of War, Gen, Spoiler Alert Spoiler Alert Spoiler Alert Spoiler Alert Spoiler Alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT<br/>This is a stand alone story.<br/>Because of the kindness of a fellow writer and good friend, I was able to see the first two episodes of the new season. I might not get to see them that way again but they are beginning to show up on Youtube. So since I have been reading stories by other writers who have already seen the episodes I figured I would too.<br/>If you don't want to read it now you can always go back to read it after you've seen the show.<br/>As most of you know I like to write about an episode and twist it around. I use dialog from the show not always in the same place as it was heard. I do like my hurt d'Art even if it didn't happen in the episode. So saying that this story of mine does reflect a good portion of what happened but in others it doesn't and as we all know Constance is now Mrs. d'Artagnan she is not in any of my stories. I don't *ship* them. If ever she's mentioned it will be as a friend only.</p><p>See note at bottom.</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoils

_On the front lines_

Four years without Aramis by his side and d'Artagnan still couldn't get used to not see his brother's slyly grinning face, as if he just pulled a trick on you and you'd find out about it later much to your sorrow. He knew both his brothers felt the same, none more so than Porthos. It was like the larger man was missing a limb, a limb that used to be firmly attached to their marksman. Porthos never spoke Aramis' name after their brother remained behind in Doui, despite their attempts to talk Aramis into going with them since they were heading for war with Spain.

Athos took Aramis' decision well, knowing that this was a long time in coming for his friend. Also understanding, but still disappointed, d'Artagnan knew that a vow to God is not one broken lightly. Still the thundercloud that was Porthos was not so forgiving. He felt that Aramis put aside their friendship for the church and that still rankled with him. Knowing that Porthos had attempted to write Aramis, d'Artagnan couldn't help but notice none of the letters ever made it past the wastebasket. There were a lot of hurt feelings tumbling around in Porthos and d'Artagnan did his best to try and replace Aramis, as if he ever could, by watching out for Porthos' back. Being careful not to bring the marksman's name up in any conversation they held was difficult for d'Artagnan because there were so many things that still reminded him of his cheery friend. But those times he forgot, Porthos nearly bit d'Artagnan's head off or just plain got up and walked away from him.

Hiding in a huge trench-like hole in the ground, with debris raining down all around them, d'Artagnan's thoughts turned away from missing Aramis to the battle they were now on the verge of losing. Athos was to his left and Porthos was on Athos' other side, just as filthy and worn out as d'Artagnan himself felt. "No powder or ammunition!" d'Artagnan yelled to his captain.

"We got nothin' left ta throw at 'em," Porthos growled.

Knowing both his brothers were correct, Athos made a daring move, much to d'Artagnan's anger, as he heard the younger man hollering at his back. Granted, it was an insane risk. He could be killed just trying to reach General Lantier's position which was nice and safe upon the hill but Athos had to try. His men depended on him and what type of captain could he call himself if he stood by and watched them all slaughtered. He was losing good men without having anything to fight back with. His ever faithful Roger, battle trained, snorted loudly as the horse stood his position waiting for Athos to mount him.

++++

Gaining the hill by some miracle, Athos spoke to the general quietly seething at his commander's words. "My men are being butchered. You're setting sword against cannon."

"Go back to your men, Captain!" Lantier barked. "Isn't dying for your country honor enough?"

Quirking a brow up high, Athos glowered at the general with disdain in his blue eyes. "That's your strategy? For us to just up and die for France?" Athos could have happily punched Lantier in the face. Disgusted, without another word, he rejoined Porthos and a very anxious Gascon.

++++

In the meantime, Grimaud surprised Lantier in his tent. The general hadn't paid up the money owed to him that he had loaned the general and Grimaud was tired of waiting. The man could up and get killed and he'd be out of his money all together. But his lips tightened into a fine line when Lantier still couldn't pay up. Taking exception to that, Grimaud made an example of him by cutting off Lantier's fingers. Grimaud then dragged the wailing general out of his tent, taking the officer with them as they rode out.

++++

_Back in the trenches with our boys_

"It appears the only way out of this is to take out their cannon," Athos told his brothers.

"We need a plan," Porthos grunted. Noting that certain look in d'Artagnan's eyes, he frowned. It always spelled trouble.

Shortly after hearing Porthos' suggestion, a determined light literally glowed about d'Artagnan's dirty, blood stained face.

Oh no, Athos grimaced. He knew that expression all too well after these many years fighting side by side with the stubborn Gascon.

Scrambling up the trench, d'Artagnan shouted out to his fellow brothers-in-arms. " _ATTACK!_ " Then he ran into battle, rallying the troops as d'Artagnan went along.

Both Athos and Porthos shook their heads at one another and raced off after the younger man. They should be used to it by now.

"I hate it when he does that," Athos yelled out.

During the battle, Athos saw Porthos rolling on the ground fighting a Spanish soldier over the enemy's firearm. " _SHOOT THE POWDER!_ " he hollered out to Porthos. When his brother managed to gain control over the weapon and aimed it at the powder all hell broke loose as everything exploded.

After their senses finally returned, Porthos and Athos tried to find d'Artagnan among all the dead, scattered bodies. When they noticed a familiar pair of boots peeking out from underneath two dead Spaniards, they prayed d'Artagnan's survived the blast.

Picking up and throwing the Spaniards off his younger brother, Porthos feared at first that the lad was dead since d'Artagnan wasn't moving.

"He's hurt," Athos noted fresh blood on d'Artagnan's armor and could see where a ball caught his friend high in the right portion of the lad's shoulder. Patting d'Artagnan's face a few times, Athos was rewarded when the Gascon became coherent. "Do not," Athos bit off, "tell me you are _fine_!"

Rolling his eyes at his best friend, d'Artagnan reached out a shaky hand to be pulled up. Both his brothers had him held between them as they carried d'Artagnan off to the medical tent. Gritting his teeth from the pain he was in, d'Artagnan cast his eyes upon Athos' set face. "Did we win?"

Nodding firmly, Athos kept the Gascon from falling flat on his face. "Tis over."

Looking at the aftermath of the battle, d'Artagnan closed his eyes. "I'd give anything to be back in Paris right now."

"Let's get that ball out of your shoulder and then there will be time to think upon Paris," Athos remarked dryly.

"Shouldn't ya report to General Lantier ta tell 'em that despite our lack of equipment we won?" Porthos jerked his head toward their commander's tent. "I can get d'Art back to the med tent by myself."

"Non," d'Artagnan groaned, he meant it to come out as a demand but that didn't happen. "I will face the general with you both."

"D'Artagnan," Athos said wearily. "Oh why the deuce not," he eyed his younger brother with a look that dared the Gascon to not pass out yet.

When they went to see General Lantier they discovered the officer was missing. One of the general's lieutenants told them that their commander went off with strangers heading for Douai.

Balancing himself near a table, d'Artagnan grimaced. "Not all of him." Lifting up a bloody cloth, he exposed what was underneath... severed fingers. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they belonged to either.

"Didn't think we'd be heading back to Douai again," Athos glanced at d'Artagnan only to see the younger man frown. Following the lad's gaze he noted Porthos had left the tent. "Why do I have a feeling this will not be a happy reunion?"

Bumping his good shoulder against Athos', d'Artagnan smiled sadly. "We could be heading toward another _explosion_."

Affectionately squeezing the back of d'Artagnan's neck, Athos then steered the Gascon out of the tent. "We need to get that ball out now and if you're up to it on the morrow we'll set out for Douai."

++++

_A few days later, Douai - the monastery_

Knowing trouble when he saw it, Aramis tried to protect the children from the killers. He couldn't get the Abbott to listen to reason over leaving the monastery. At this point Aramis didn't know what these men wanted with them but having seen them in action it wasn't anything good.

The children under the friar's care have only known Aramis as a monk. None of them knew the truth of his past and he liked it that way. Luc was the oldest and was forever playing out the part of a Musketeer with the other children. Out of all the stories Aramis had told the youngsters about the inseparables and d'Artagnan, Luc picked d'Artagnan to emulate. It made Aramis laugh as he thought about it. Luc shared many similarities with his Gascon pup. Though Aramis guessed with four years of fighting under his belt d'Artagnan would take exception to being teased with that affectionate term. Perhaps one day Luc would meet his hero.

++++

Hiding the gunpowder in the monastery, until Grimaud could contact the Spanish spy at the border, was an acceptable plan or so he thought. Having to kill the Abbott was simply a means to an end. God hadn't struck him down in this holy place yet for snuffing out the Abbott's life. If hell was what awaited Grimaud, today wasn't that day.

Watching the Abbott's lifeless body hit the ground, Aramis had to hold Luc back from doing something stupid. In that respect the boy did have a great deal in common with d'Artagnan. Getting the children and friars out of the monastery had now become Aramis' main priority. Eventually he got all the youngsters into the wine cellar making them think it was just a game. But somewhere along the line he lost sight of Luc.

++++

_Outside of the monastery grounds_

Getting separated from Aramis and the others, Luc didn't want to get caught and managed to run away from the monastery. In so doing Luc met up with the inseparables and d'Artagnan, though he didn't know who they were at the time as Luc all but collapsed in d'Artagnan's arms causing the soldier to wince in pain.

" _D'ART!_ " Porthos growled. "Mind your shoulder!"

"Oui, maman," d'Artagnan snickered, earning himself a foul hand gesture from Porthos.

Jumping down from Roger's back, Athos listened to all the boy had to say. Then they ended up following Luc to a secret way inside the monastery that only the children knew about and used.

Athos and d'Artagnan had no trouble going down the narrow opening after Luc had gone first. It wasn't until Porthos' turn that the bigger man got stuck and struggled to squeeze himself downward. When his feet at last touched the ground, he turned around and noted d'Artagnan's smirking face. "Next time I'm usin' the front door."

Luc lead them through the darkened cellar. When they encountered movement, d'Artagnan drew his sword and went ahead of everyone, much to Athos' displeasure as d'Artagnan heard his captain grumbling from behind him. "Who goes there?" When a figure ran past d'Artagnan, a torch illuminated a much missed face.

Worrying that the younger soldier was about to hurt Aramis, Luc shouted. "Not him!"

Grinning from ear to ear d'Artagnan said, "Aramis, we know." Walking over he embraced his old friend. "Tis good to see you."

Slowly making his way over, Athos did likewise. "You still have that knack of getting into trouble, brother."

When he turned to greet Porthos, Aramis was surprised an a bit hurt that the other man didn't return his embrace.

Finding out that there really had been a Porthos, not just someone Aramis had made up for the stories he would tell, Luc was overjoyed to meet him. "You you're _the Porthos_."

Smiling, Aramis touched Athos on the shoulder. "And this is _the Athos_." Winking at d'Artagnan, Aramis added, "And _the_..."

" _D'Artagnan_." Smiling with pleasure into Luc's awed features d'Artagnan turned away to study Aramis' face, seeing if the years had been kind to the man.

Eyes shining as he met the original d'Artagnan, that Luc always pretended to be, he took in all four men standing in front of him. "Then the stories were true."

"Our reputation precedes us," Athos nodded at the boy and threw an amused glance at Aramis. Niceties put aside for the moment, Athos learned more about what those men were doing here at the monastery. Aramis filled them in on the death of the Abbott as well and eventually introduced them all to the rest of the children.

Talking over their strategy with d'Artagnan, Athos noted Aramis trying to make peace with Porthos. When that didn't work Athos simply said, "Give it time."

Devising a plan it was d'Artagnan, not Athos, who took charge giving his captain orders as if d'Artagnan was used to doing so. It was dark now and they were going to have the children escape by going out their secret passageway. "I'll go first. When I pull the string send the first one through." This way the youngsters and remaining friars would be out of harm's way.

Once everyone was clear, Aramis waited for his friends to follow them. "Go, take care of them, Aramis," Athos patted the other man's back. "We have to secure the gunpowder."

Not wanting to leave them behind, Aramis knew he had other responsibilities. He desperately wanted to say something to Porthos before leaving. Instead it ended up being the other way around.

"Go. Your brothers are waiting." Turning away, Porthos went to help d'Artagnan and Athos.

++++

Figuring out that the friars and children have escaped, Grimaud was not pleased and sent some of his men after them.

When they're discovered Aramis reverted back to his Musketeer days and fought them off, gaining a sword from one of the men he felled in the process. Even Luc joined in the fighting, though Aramis would have preferred the boy safely away from all of this turmoil. When the fight had ended, Aramis spied Spanish soldiers coming for the gunpowder. Knowing he had no other choice, Aramis went back to the monastery to warn and help his friends.

++++

Fighting with an injured shoulder was not going to make Athos happy but what was he to do? He felt his energy flagging as d'Artagnan stumbled backwards, nearly getting his enemy's rapier stuck between his ribs. Sweat broke out on his forehead and d'Artagnan felt blood flowing down from his prior injury. Dizzy, he quickly finished off his adversary and jumped into helping Athos who was fighting off three men.

They had to get the wagon filled with gunpowder out of the monastery. " _TAKE THE WAGON OUT OF HERE!_ " he screamed at Porthos. When Aramis came back with his warning and saw all the chaos, Athos was pleased to see his old comrade join Porthos on top of the wagon. Nearly breaking out in a smile, Athos watched as both Aramis and Porthos were once again side by side riding out of the monastery.

++++

Only way to get rid of the stuff was to blow it up, Porthos thought. With just a knowing look at Aramis, both men jumped off the wagon.

Aramis was amused at seeing the old Porthos at work. Lighting a bomb, pushing the wagon off the bridge and then throwing said bomb with complete accuracy down at the wagon.

Blowing the wagon skyhigh, Porthos grinned over at Aramis. "Ya gonna tell me ya didn't enjoy that?"

Both of them began laughing like the idiots Athos used to call them.

++++

_Back at the monastery_

The fighting is long over and Athos wondered where his darn Gascon had gone off to. "D'Artagnan! D'Artagnan!" Hearing weak sounds of moaning coming from near the entrance to the monastery, Athos' feet took flight. Seeing d'Artagnan lying on the ground curled onto his side made his heart clench in fear.

Noting the fresh blood covering the younger man's doublet, Athos first thought it a new injury. But noting the location, he grimaced. "You've re-opened your wound." Brushing his hand over the lad's forehead, Athos instantly drew it back from the heat that he felt there. "When you are well again," Athos lifted d'Artagnan into his arms, "we will have another one on one discussion about why you never tell me when you are not feeling up to par." Carrying the Gascon bridal style Athos kicked opened one of the doors. Quickly locating a bedroom they could use, he placed the Gascon down.

Finding an empty basin, Athos filled it up with clean water. Ripping open the lad's doublet, carefully Athos removed it along with the blood soaked shirt underneath. Cleaning the wound Athos swore softly seeing the angry, raw injury. "Merde!" Running a hand through his hair, Athos wished for Aramis' and his skills. No sooner did that thought cross his mind when Athos' wish was granted. It would appear that God was smiling on them this day when Athos saw Aramis walk through the door.

"It wouldn't be d'Artagnan," Aramis clucked, "if the lad didn't end up getting hurt."

Listening to how d'Artagnan received his wound, Aramis then went about mixing the appropriate herbs to draw out the infection. Plus a pain draught to help ease the Gascon's discomfort.

"Kid's gonna be okay right, Mis?"

Looking at Porthos standing guard over d'Artagnan like some huge avenging angel, Aramis felt like it was old times again. "If we can keep our young friend from further aggravating it," he wiped the lad's sweaty forehead, "there's a good possibility of that."

"Missed you," d'Artagnan mumbled into Aramis' hand when the older man's palm brushed his cheek. "Not your damn draughts though. Taste like crap."

"Oy!" There's the whelp!" Porthos laughed.

"Not a _whelp_ any longer," d'Artagnan shot back, trying to fight off the effects of the pain medication.

"You'll always be our _whelp_ ," Porthos leaned down to ruffle d'Artagnan's hair.

"I too missed this," Aramis murmured quietly, looking at the Gascon with fondness.

"Me getting hurt?" d'Artagnan cracked one blurry eye open.

"Non," Aramis chuckled. "Just _this_."

Knowing what Aramis meant, because d'Artagnan felt the same, he let the draught do its work.

Glancing over at Athos, Aramis noted the concern for the younger man in his friend's eyes. "By the end of the week d'Artagnan should be able to leave."

"Do you think we'll need three or four horses?" d'Artagnan asked sleepily, not quite out of it as his brothers probably thought.

"I've been talking to God about that," Aramis' face told them all how serious a matter it was for him.

"You are many things, Aramis, but a _monk_ is not one of them," Athos' eyes twinkled.

"You can't argue with God," Aramis basked in the old comradery he had sorely missed these past four years.

++++

_Paris_

After enthusiastically greeting his men back, Minister Treville hustled them along to meet the governor.

"Gentlemen, this is Governor Feron," Treville then made the appropriate introductions of his soldiers. "Governor, these are _Athos, Porthos, d'Artagnan_ and _Aramis_ ," Treville announced with pride. "I've recalled them back from the front."

Frowning at this unexpected news Feron grumbled under his breath, his illness paining him greatly. "The war heroes," he sneered. "Take heed," Feron stabbed each of the soldiers with a cold look that would brook no interference, "Paris is _my_ city now. Cross me and you'll live to regret it."

"Where have we heard that before?" d'Artagnan whispered into Athos' ear, watching his captain nearly roll his eyes at Feron's words.

"Now it truly feels like I have never left," Aramis huffed quietly, earning a friendly nudge in the ribs from Porthos.

As the men all left, Feron knew that those four soldiers were going to cause him nothing but grief.

The End

 

_Note:_

It was such a brief thing that they showed in episode one where General Lantier got mangled by Grimaud. I thought it was just fingers that were severed and went with that. Though I read someone else's story that said his whole hand was cut off. So it's anyone's guess at this point.


End file.
